


Handcuffs and Geometry

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-22
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:36:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first semi-smut endeavor with very little plot and a good deal of Shinji mumbling. Oh, and the aforementioned handcuffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handcuffs and Geometry

Shinji paused on his way up to the door of the Kamio residence. Normally, Akira would run out and drag Shinji inside, demanding that he come see some new rhythm game. Shinji was at the door and Akira wasn’t there. Tachibana’s bicycle sat, parked where Shinji was used to seeing the Kamio family car. Akira’s parents were away for the night, though. Tachibana insisted they were going to a love hotel. Kamio told Tachibana to shut up, he didn’t want to think of his parents that way, ever.

Shinji opened the door and removed his shoes. There were dusky blue house shoes waiting for him. Everyone on team Fudomine had a special pair of house shoes at Kamio’s house; Kamio’s mother was one of those people that considered you family if you visited more than three times a month. Shinji and Tachibana were surrogate sons now, though Shinji preferred not to think of it in such a way because, if he did, then the groans coming from upstairs were incestuous groans and Shinji wasn’t into that kind of thing.

The groaning was most likely Tachibana-san’s doing. Tachibana’s hormones had risen in the last month, and now he was a walking ball of sex, waiting to be unleashed on his two boyfriends. Luckily, Kamio did a lot of stamina training and Tachibana was usually worn out by the time Shinji found the two, usually naked, usually asleep. Today, though, they were still at it, which Shinji was of two minds about. On the one hand, he could easily sneak home and call Mori for some street court practice. On the other, he could go upstairs and tell them to knock it off and they could all watch a movie.

The second option wasn’t fair to Tachibana, though. He was high maintenance, yes, but he always worked very hard for the team and was very considerate to Shinji and Kamio, who weren’t the easiest people to get along with. Shinji was aware his tendency to over-vocalize his opinions was trying sometimes, but Tachibana said it was cute. Tachibana also said that Shinji’s tongue must be really strong from all that talking, and couldn’t he think of some more pleasing uses for it than complaining about the length of the uniform shorts?

Shinji’s shorts tended to ride up. It was uncomfortable and drafty. Tachibana and Kamio said they looked good. But, whenever Shinji mentioned this, the rest of the team would tell him that he was imagining things. Kamio was probably bribing them to say that.

A crash sounded from upstairs. Shinji climbed to the second floor, pausing on the last step. He heard whispered voices.

“Are you trying to kill me!” Kamio’s voice was high-pitched, which meant he’d hurt something. Shinji moved closer to Kamio’s closed bedroom door.

“Maybe you should’ve stretched before we tried this.” Tachibana’s speech was full of pauses, like he was jostling something between words. His breathing was heavy, though not in a breathy way. The sound was like strangulation.

“Or we could’ve done something normal for a change. I swear you’re trying to kill me, Kippei.” A shrill scream followed, then another crash.

Shinji cautiously opened the door, carefully looking at the ceiling to avoid an embarrassing moment, though it really shouldn’t have been embarrassing, them being his boyfriends and all, but still, Shinji wasn’t ready to see sweaty nakedness just yet. “I heard crashing. Are you okay or do I need to call an ambulance? If you want me to call an ambulance, then please put some clothes on. I don’t want my mother to know that I was going to spend the night at Kamio-kun’s house while he and Tachibana were having sex. If she knows that, then she’ll think that I’m having sex and then my father will want to lecture me, which will be embarrassing.”

“Shinji, a little help here?” Shinji saw Kamio waving something in his peripheral vision. Hopefully it was a discrete body part. “I can’t get my leg out of Kippei’s shirt.”

At least someone was wearing some clothing. Shinji looked down and couldn’t help but let out a small hiss, which was as close to mirthful laughter as Shinji got. Kamio’s leg was twined around Tachibana’s torso and was looped, not only through Tachibana’s sleeve, but his neck hole as well. Tachibana’s head was poking out of the unoccupied sleeve.

Shinji closed the door and leaned against it. “Tachibana-san shouldn’t let Kamio talk him into wearing handcuffs. Everything would be fine if Tachibana-san could use his arms.” Shinji’s eyes wandered over his barely covered buchou. Tachibana’s lime green shirt was the last vestige of clothing and, clearly, Kamio was trying to remove it when the two found themselves rather beautifully trapped. That’s what they got for trying weird things.

“He put them on me first!” Kamio protested, wiggling on the ground until his hands, bound by a pair of shiny manacles, were visible.

“Tachibana-san knew to remove your shirt before he put those on, though.” Tachibana-san also removed everything else as well. Tachibana probably spent most of his day planning how he would disrobe his boyfriends. He was very smart, so he had plenty of brainpower to spare while in school and on the tennis court. Shinji was smart too, but he preferred to be a rambler rather than a pervert. “You should stay this way,” Shinji decided.

The two looked very nice, coiled on the ground like mating anacondas. The flush on Tachibana’s cheeks was heightened by the noxious green of his shirt, though it would look a whole lot better with just Kamio’s pale skin as contrast. Of course, if Shinji removed the shirt, then they wouldn’t be stuck together, and the picture would be ruined.

“Shinji, stop staring and start helping,” Tachibana commanded. His commanding voice was really sexy when he didn’t have any clothes on.

Shinji started at a rumble, low in his stomach. He sighed. Usually this didn’t happen until after he’d left an outing with his boyfriends. Tachibana’s perversions were catching. Shinji resolved to ignore it.

“Tachibana-san shouldn’t be so impolite, especially to someone who could help him. When you’re in a relationship, isn’t it appropriate to be kind to the others in the relationship? Instead Kamio-kun and Tachibana-san are ordering me around like they don’t care about me.” Shinji stopped a moment to glare down at the entangled boys below him. “I think I’ll leave them there, let them see what such selfish acts lead to.” The rumbling was turning into pain the more Shinji stared down at the spectacle before him.

Kamio’s chest was sweaty from the friction of moving against Tachibana and the repeated forward folds in attempt to remove his foot. It made his skin shiny and the daylight coming in through the sheer crème curtains on the west wall dotted light across it, like powdered sugar on a brownie. Though, now that Shinji thought about it, it was probably more like salt on a watermelon because sweat wouldn’t taste sweet like powdered sugar, at least it never did when it ran from Shinji’s forehead and into his mouth, which happened during practice every now and then.

Of course, different people had different body chemistry, so Kamio could, in theory, have sweet sweat, though it was unlikely. Shinji exhaled through his nose, making what Kamio called his “moped noise.” There was no way to find out the answer to the question without direct experimentation. Direct experimentation did not mean, however, that he was giving in to any sort of urges whatsoever. Determined, Shinji bent down next to Kamio.

“Thank god, get me out of these things!” Kamio smiled and squirmed, moving his hands as close to Shinji as he could.

“Be quiet. I’m thinking.” Shinji examined a perfectly rounded bead of sweat, just under Kamio’s left nipple. That would do nicely. He extended his tongue and, with a quick flick, tasted. “Salty,” he concluded, standing again and resuming his position near the wall. “I expected as much, but I really wanted it to be different than my own.” The taste still lingered on Shinji’s tongue. “It’s stronger than mine, though. I wonder if Kamio-kun drinks less water. If you’re dehydrated, then you wouldn’t be able to water down your sweat as much.” Shinji moved away from the wall again, this time toward Tachibana.

Tachibana was shaking, and sweat was moving down his face in long trails. “Shinji, please help us. I really don’t think that licking Kamio’s chest is going to help our situation.” Tachibana wiggled, accenting his “situation.”

Shinji leaned forward, sliding his tongue across a rivulet that had run down the side of Tachibana’s cheek and along his neck, soaking into the green shirt. “Tachibana-san must drink more water,” Shinji concluded. He looked again, more critically this time, at Tachibana’s contorted form. “Tachibana-san is sweating more. Maybe he drinks a lot of water too.” His gaze traveled lower. “Kamio-kun has more energy, though. He’s twitching and Tachibana-san is just swaying.” Shinji reached down, running his fingers over Kamio’s twitching length before giving a small squeeze. Kamio was solid, impossibly compact. Shinji was never that solid when he was hard. “Hmmm.” He turned and repeated the process on Tachibana. Tachibana wasn’t as solid, but he was, unsurprisingly, much wetter. As an experiment, Shinji brought his fingers, now coated in clear, somewhat gummy fluid, to his lips.

He spit. “Disgusting.” Shinji wiped his hands on the green shirt, careful not to move it too much, lest Kamio get free. “Kamio-kun says that licking Tachibana is wonderful, but Tachibana-san tastes disgusting.” He turned to Kamio. “Are your taste buds damaged from too many sour gummies?” Last year, Kamio was addicted to a neon gummy bear coated in sour powder. Kamio’s breath always rang of their melony scent and Shinji hated it so much he refused to stand within five feet of his friend after Kamio ate a pack of the candy.

Kamio’s response was a burble that might have been Shinji’s name or might have been a request for blueberries.

“Shinji, be reasonable. Help us.” Tachibana looked like he was having trouble breathing. Now that Shinji looked, the shirt was getting tighter around Tachibana’s neck. Kamio was squirming too much.

“You should take this as a lesson not to do stupid things,” Shinji admonished, taking out his keyring (he insisted that Kamio and Tachibana give him keys to all their lockable contraptions for situations such as these) and unlocking Tachibana’s handcuffs. While Tachibana freed himself from his fabric prison, Shinji unlocked Kamio’s bonds. “Don’t do this again. If I decided to stay home instead of coming over, your mother would’ve found out about this and called my mother. My mother would never let me come over here again and…”

The wind rushed out of Shinji’s lungs and suddenly he was on a futon, staring up at the ceiling. Kamio needed to dust his ceiling. There were cobwebs on it, or was that dust? The ceiling fan was dusty as well, though kind of hypnotizing, set on low as it was. The blades whirred slowly and, if Shinji concentrated, he could follow a single blade with his eyes.

A slackening of pressure near Shinji’s groin distracted him from the fan. Shinji wiggled up the futon, trying to pull his pants with him. Tachibana and Kamio were intent on removing the pants, though, so there really wasn’t much Shinji could do. Kamio was quick and Tachibana was strong, so fighting really wouldn’t do any good, except Shinji really wanted to keep his pants on or the other two would realize that he kind of enjoyed watching them writhe about in agony while handcuffed and strapped to one another by hideously ugly shirts that Tachibana refused to throw away because his little sister gave them to him.

“Ne, Kippei, Shinji was nice helping us out.” Kamio leaned over Shinji’s leg, trailing his tongue across the bottom of Shinji’s kneecap. Shinji’s pants were around his ankles.

“Very nice,” Tachibana agreed, kissing at the spot just behind Shinji’s ear. Shinji shook his head and Tachibana bit down on Shinji’s earlobe. Tachibana liked biting Shinji’s ear, but he never touched Kamio’s. Maybe Kamio didn’t clean his ears properly in the shower.

“Shinji, you’re supposed to be focused on us,” Kamio pouted, pinching Shinji’s lower inner thigh. It was Shinji’s most sensitive spot and he squeaked like a girl every time someone toyed with the area.

“You always team up on me,” Shinji complained, though his words were thick with rising ardor and interrupted on occasion by Tachibana’s tongue. “I came over to study for math and you don’t have any of your books out. You probably didn’t plan to study, which might be fine for you, but I find geometry difficult and can’t…” Tachibana’s tongue was joined by Kamio’s, making speech impossible.

“A quick lesson, then,” Tachibana said, again in his buchou voice. He put a hand in the middle of Shinji’s back, tilting him up. “Right now, this,” he gestured to the pink organ between Shinji’s legs, “is an acute angle.” Kippei took a moment to appreciate Shinji’s neck. “Our goal of the evening is to examine how we might move from an acute angle to an obtuse angle. Your thoughts, Akira?”

Kamio’s thoughts consisted of a lip smack and a dive at Shinji’s groin. If there was one thing to be said about Kamio, he never spoke with his mouth full, whether at the dinner table or otherwise orally occupied.

The backs of Shinji’s eyelids were a pretty pink and white mix. After a deep breath and a little head tilt, Shinji opened his eyes to find that his chest, after Tachibana’s ministrations, was a motley of pale white and purple-red. “I can’t explain any of those to my mother, Tachibana-san. She won’t believe that bite marks and hickeys came from tennis.”

“Tell her we were working on a science project. You had to strap some suctions cups to you,” Tachibana suggested, tapping Kamio on his hamstered out cheek. “My turn.”

While Kamio and Tachibana had a small argument over who was to have the privilege of finishing Shinji off, Shinji scooted back, sliding his hand around himself and taking in the lovely discord that was his two boyfriends. Tachibana was flushed from agitation as well as unfulfilled lust. It was doubtful he reached release before getting caught up in the shirt. Kamio was in a similar state, though he’d been stroking himself lightly at half the pace he was working on Shinji.

The pink and white sparkles were returning, only this time Shinji’s eyes were opened. Akira and Kippei looked best like this, yelling, flushed, almost ready to kiss. The sparkles were a nice addition, too. Shinji’s back arched and his mouth hung open. A rush of air escaped him, but no sound came out to alert his two bickering boyfriends that Kamio’s futon cover needed to be changed. It wasn’t until Shinji tried to pull his pants up, pushing Kamio aside, that the other two turned with angry faces toward their now sated prey.

“You’re acute again,” Tachibana sighed before looking down.

“Perpendicular,” Kamio said, pointing to Tachibana.

Shinji tuned out the geometry innuendo in favor of pulling his pants on. He really didn’t like it when his pants were places he couldn’t control them, particularly when Tachibana and Kamio were in weird moods. They probably planned this entire thing, though they didn’t plan well because Shinji had to take care of things himself. That was another week of Shinji-celibacy for them. It was difficult for Shinji at times, but he would persevere because it made his boyfriends do stupid things, like handcuffing themselves into ridiculous positions, just to convince Shinji to have sex with them. It was cute, which was why Shinji tolerated it, even though he wasn’t really into cute, because cute for girls and…

Kamio gave a whoop and threw a pillow at Shinji. “Shinji, pay attention! We’re going to review parallel lines now!”


End file.
